


Summer Spiders

by AnimationNut



Series: Into the Spider-Chat [5]
Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Blood, Don't copy to another site, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Minor Injuries, One Word Prompts, Platonic Relationships, Spider-Family, Spiderlings, Summer, Summer Vacation, Team as Family, spider-fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimationNut/pseuds/AnimationNut
Summary: It's summer vacation, and there are almost two months of summer fun to be had. From camping to ice cream to just chilling, the Spiderlings take advantage of their school-free days to hang with their Spider-Dads and each other.
Relationships: Miles Morales & Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales & Peni Parker & Peter B. Parker & Peter Benjamin Parker & Peter Porker & Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales & Peter B. Parker, Peni Parker & Gwen Stacy, Peni Parker & Peter B. Parker, Peni Parker & Peter Benjamin Parker, Peter Porker & Gwen Stacy
Series: Into the Spider-Chat [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1508897
Comments: 134
Kudos: 273





	1. Sweet Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Into the Spider-verse.
> 
> Word prompt: Air-conditioning

**Miles: @Peter B** our AC is busted

**Peter B:** That sucks. You must be roasting.

**Miles:** I’m going to sweat to death.

**Peter B:** Drink lots of water. Is someone coming to fix it?

**Miles:** Yeah, tomorrow, but I don’t think I can last a whole day and night without it. Can I come over?

**Peter B:** I’m surprised that’s not the first thing you said.

**Miles:** I was expecting you to ask me, and you didn’t, which is beyond rude.

**Peter B:** I wanted to see how long it would take for you to ask.

**Miles:** This is not the time for games.

**Peter B:** Of course you can come over, Miles.

**Miles:** YES I’m on my way.

…

Miles went into the living room, where his mother was sitting on the couch, a stand-up fan aimed directly at her. “Can I sleep over at Ganke’s tonight?” he asked.

Rio sent her son an amused glance. “Almost the very second I tell you the air-conditioning is out, you abandon us?”

“I cannot deal with this heat,” said Miles passionately. Sweat clung to his skin and caused his clothes to stick to his body. The heat was stifling and though Rio had opened the windows, there simply wasn’t a breeze. “Sometimes you just gotta save yourself.”

Rio laughed. “I can’t say I blame you. I might spend a few hours in the supermarket myself. Do you want a ride?”

“No, I can take the subway. Thanks, Mom.”

He returned to his room, where he shoved his regular laptop into his backpack along with an extra set of clothes. He went into the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush and stuck it in its travelling case. He dragged his Spider-Man costume out from the depths of his closet, having been too hot to put it on when he got up.

When everything was packed, he went to bid his mother goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, kissing her cheek.

She gave him a hug. “Text me when you get there.”

“I will.”

“Have a fun time, mijo. Be good for Ganke’s parents.”

“Yes, Mom. Bye!”

Miles opened the front door and was immediately engulfed by a thick heat. He made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and shut the door, moving down the steps and feeling a fresh layer of sweat break out over his face.

It felt like walking through mashed potatoes. It was muggy and hot and still and there was absolutely no one sitting out on their steps or riding their bikes or taking a walk. Miles ducked into the closest alley and smacked at his PMT, desperate for an escape.

He appeared in Peter’s apartment and Miles closed his eyes as frigidness enveloped him, chasing away the discomfort from his bones. The sweat seemed to freeze in place on his skin and he swiped it away, grinning broadly as goosebumps prickled along his arms and legs.

“Dude, this is perfect.”

Peter arched an eyebrow as Miles extended his arms and tilted his head, basking in the blasts of cold air. “Miles, you’ve been without AC for what, five minutes?”

“Well, that’s when my mom told me it was broken,” said Miles, opening his eyes. “I didn’t notice it wasn’t working right away. I thought she turned it off for some weird reason so I checked. So technically I’ve been suffering for much longer.”

Peter snorted. “Man, you really can’t deal with the heat, can you?”

“I can deal with regular summer heat fine,” defended Miles. “But my New York is not having regular summer weather right now. We’re in a heatwave. I’m not about that.”

“How did you know I’d invite you over?” teased Peter. “I might have wanted you to suffer.”

“Nah, you don’t like seeing me in pain,” said Miles with a smirk.

Peter clicked his tongue. “Right. You know my weakness.”

“I am your weakness,” said Miles with a laugh. “What are you making?”

“Cherry Jell-O. It’s going to have to chill for a bit but when it’s done we can pile whipped cream on top of it.”

“Awesome.” Miles collapsed onto the mattress. “What have you been up to?”

“I got up, talked to you, and now I’m making Jell-O.”

“I guess I never asked if I was interrupting any plans,” realized Miles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Peter dismissively. “You know I don’t really have plans. What did you tell your parents?”

“My dad was already at work, so I told my mom the usual. That I’m at Ganke’s. Oh, that reminds me.” He dug his cell phone from the pocket of his tan shorts and set a reminder. “I’ll need to send her a text in an hour, telling her I made it safely. It takes about that long to get to his place by public transit.”

Peter finished making the Jell-O mixture and stuck the bowl into the fridge. He went over to sit beside Miles. “What do you want to watch?”

“Doesn’t matter,” replied Miles. “We can do something outside, if you want.”

“Are you kidding? We’re also having a heatwave, and I’m not leaving this place until the temperature drops from ‘Boiling Alive’ to ‘Tolerable’.”

Miles grinned and leaned against Peter’s side, where the man immediately moved his arm to wrap around him. “I love you.”

“I think you love my functioning AC more, but I’ll take it.”

…

**Miles: @Peter B** Um…turns out the repairman had to reschedule and it’s going to be another day…

**Peter B:** Yeah, yeah. Just use me for my facilities.

**Porker:** I wouldn’t call your apartment a facility. I don’t think a hovel counts as a facility.

**Peter B:** Shut up.

**Gwen:** Why don’t you ask to come to my place?”

**Miles:** Because I can’t play catch in your house.

**Gwen:** What?

**Peter B:** Miles ate two bowls of Jell-O and I needed him to work off some of the excess energy somehow.

**Peter B:** You owe me a new lamp, by the way.


	2. Working in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen enlists Miles to help her clean out her garden. Miles isn't really built for this kind of work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Garden

**Gwen:** Hey **@Miles** want to come over and help me garden?

**Miles:** You garden?

**Gwen:** No. My dad is making me clean up the garden as a chore but he said I could have a friend help me.

**Miles:** Geez. My parents don’t let me bring friends over to help with my chores.

**Gwen:** Well I’ve been talking about you and Peni constantly, because I talk and hang out with you guys the most, and he wants to meet you.

**Peni:** Wait why am I not invited?

**Gwen:** Er I think my dad might notice that your appearance is a bit more…vibrant.

**Peni:** Hmm…a disguise feature…I actually never thought about it, to be honest.

**Noir:** No.

**Gwen:** Of course you’d pick now to chime in.

**Gwen:** So what do you say, Miles?

**Miles:** Does he think I’m your boyfriend? Because I don’t want to have to face a shotgun.

**Gwen:** What do you think I’ve been telling him?

**Miles:** You’d find it hilarious, watching him interrogate me for no reason.

**Gwen:** Fair point. No, I haven’t. I’ll give you the spiel when you arrive, so you don’t contradict the stories I’ve been telling him.

**Miles:** But I haven’t said yes!

**Gwen:** See you in ten minutes!

**_Gwen has logged off_ **

**Peni:** Have fun, Miles! I’ll get working on that disguise feature.

**Noir:** _No._

**Peni:** Noir!

**Miles:** Good luck, Peni. And wish me luck too, actually.

**Peni:** Good luck!

…

Miles appeared a few blocks over from Gwen’s house, as he had been instructed to do by Gwen through text. She was waiting on the corner, dressed in baggy T-shirt and pants. Miles snickered. “Attractive.”

Gwen glowered at him. “Shut up. These are my working clothes. Hope you don’t mind those sneakers of yours getting dirty.”

Miles glanced down at his bright red sneakers, and scowled. “I’ll clean them up when we’re finished.”

“Didn’t think ahead, did you?” teased Gwen.

“I live in a townhouse in Brooklyn, not the suburbs! We don’t have room for a garden. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s easy,” dismissed Gwen. “I’ll teach you.” They started to walk slowly down the street, where Gwen began to explain what she had been telling her father. “He thinks you and Peni are students at Midtown. I signed up for a mentor program to guide you through the ins and outs of Midtown High, as well as help you with your classes as needed, since you’re in high school early.”

“He hasn’t once asked why we haven’t come over?” asked Miles in disbelief. “Even though we go to the same school?”

“No. I think he’s just happy I’m finally hanging out with people again.”

“What else have you been telling him?”

Gwen spent the remainder of the walk going over the more pivotal stories she had fabricated to her father. She finished with, “I told him your mother is a nurse in Brooklyn, and that your father is an accountant.”

Miles gave a startled snort of laughter. “An _accountant_?”

“I couldn’t tell him he was a cop,” defended Gwen. “That’s definitely something he’d be interested in looking into. And he’s already got his own accountant, so it’s not something he’d pay much mind to.”

When they reached Gwen’s house, the garden bordering the front, sectioned into two parts with the front porch as the divider, Miles suddenly felt nervous.

“Dad, Miles is here!” called Gwen, throwing open the front door.

A man with light brown hair and streaked with grey came to greet them. Stress lines creased his forehead, gained after years of policework. His blue eyes were warm and friendly and he thrust out a hand. “Well, Miles, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m George Stacy.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stacy,” said Miles, giving his hand a firm shake, as his father had taught him. “I would have loved to come here sooner, but it’s a bit of a journey from Brooklyn, and I don’t really have much free time after school.”

“Gwen did mention that. What caused you to chose a high school in Forest Hills?” asked George curiously.

“He didn’t quite make the cut for Visions Academy,” lied Gwen smoothly.

Miles sent her a mock glare, internally relieved by her quick wit. He was not a very good liar. “Thanks for bringing that up, Gwen.”

“No need to take it to heart,” said George. “Visions is known for being a tricky school to get into to.”

He waved them into the kitchen, ignoring Gwen’s exasperated protests, and the two teens kicked off their shoes to have lemonade. George’s line of questioning was more curious than interrogative, and most of the questions were about Miles himself, and they were easy to answer. The man finally sent them on their way, and the moment the front door closed behind them, Miles turned to Gwen anxiously.

“How was that?”

“Don’t look so freaked,” said Gwen in amusement. “You did great.”

“Do you think he likes me?”

“Oh, trust me, you’d know if he didn’t like you.”

The nervous knot finally disappeared and Miles let out a breath. “Cool.” He turned to glance at the garden, which now that he was looking more closely, could see had fallen into disarray. “What do we have to do?”

“We have to pull out everything, basically,” said Gwen, her nose wrinkled in annoyance. “The last time we properly tended to the garden was a few summers ago. We’ve got to clear out all the weeds.”

“What about the bushes?”

Gwen stared at the thick green bushes. “Nah, they can stay. They’ve been here for years, actually. It would feel like a betrayal to get rid of them.”

She retrieved two sets of garden gloves and Miles pulled them on. He followed Gwen’s lead, kneeling next to the stone border and gripping the green strands poking out from the soil. He wrenched it up, dirt splattering against his bare knees, and he set it next to him.

“All of these have to go?” he asked in dismay, properly registering the number of weeds overtaking the garden.

“Yup.”

With a groan, Miles got to work. They worked mostly in compatible silence, occasionally making idle chatter. The pile of weeds grew with each passing minute, and Miles felt his knees and hands beginning to ache.

“People do this for fun?” he muttered as he wrangled with a particularly difficult weed.

“Apparently,” said Gwen. “Having trouble there?”

“I got it,” said Miles stubbornly.

He braced his feet against the grass and gripped the weed with both hands. He used his Spider-Strength to wrench it free, but used a bit too much. He went reeling backwards and the flying dirt landed in his face. He spluttered and scrubbed it off.

“Congratulations,” said Gwen with a smirk. “You won the battle.”

“It was a close one,” quipped Miles, dropping the weed to the ground.

It was over an hour later when the garden was finally free of weeds. Gwen seized a garden hoe and worked it through the dirt, smoothing it out. “The flowers are in the backyard,” she spoke. “We got them yesterday.”

“I’ll grab them.”

Miles jogged around the house and through a wooden gate. He could see a collection of colourful flowers in temporary plastic trays, in the beginning stages of blooming. There were pink begonias, purple coneflowers, dahlias and daisies. There were six trays in total, so Miles carried them two at a time back to the front garden.

On his third trip he brought back the daisies and the coneflowers. As he reached the drive a tickling sensation on his wrist caused him to look down. A large wasp crawled along his skin, having crept out from the flowers unnoticed by the thirteen-year-old.

Miles screamed.

Gwen came running to investigate as Miles flung the flowers into the air. They were dislodged from the tray and went sailing to the ground. Miles paid them little mind as he instinctively flung out his arm.

The wasp, angered by the thrashing movement, went into defensive mode.

Miles yipped at the sting and swatted the wasp away, where it flew off. Gwen’s eyes went wide. “Are you allergic?”

“No!”

The concern immediately morphed into mirth and she broke into laughter. Miles glowered at her, gingerly cradling his hand, where a red welt was growing around the sting injection point. “It freaking hurts,” he groused.

“Sorry, sorry!” Gwen calmed down and grinned. “That does suck. Come on. Let’s see if we can get the stinger out.”

“Sorry about the flowers,” muttered Miles in embarrassment.

“They’re fine,” dismissed Gwen, leading him to the front door. “The roots are still intact. Just some of the petals will be mangled. Not a fan of wasps, huh?”

“I can’t stand anything that stings,” said Miles with a shudder.

“Well, you got stung, and you’re still alive.”

“That doesn’t make me less freaked out by them!”

“You were bitten by a radioactive spider, Miles.”

“And it felt like a pinch,” he said flatly. “The side-effect of a radioactive spider bite isn’t pain, it’s spider powers.”

Gwen blinked. “Huh. Fair point.”

…

**Peter B:** How did the gardening go?

**Gwen:** There was a slight incident in which Miles got stung. But we didn’t let that stop us.

**Miles:** She wouldn’t let me stop.

**Gwen:** That is true.

**Peter B:** You all right, bud?

**Miles:** Yeah. It swelled up, so I’ve got ice on it now.

**Peni:** I wonder what radioactive bee powers would look like.

**Miles:** It was a wasp. You’d probably grow a stinger if you were bitten by a radioactive wasp. But the question is where would it grow?

**Gwen:** Oh my gosh.

**Peter B:** I’m gone.

**_Peter B has logged off_ **


	3. Out on the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Ham go boating. Ham should have been clearer in the instructions he gave Gwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: boating

**Porker:** What’s your calendar look like today, Gwen?

**Gwen:** Lounging in bed for about five hours, eating a tub of ice-cream, and patrol.

**Porker:** As always, you have your priorities in order. You’re gonna have to knock out the lounging in bed for five hours. We’re going boating.

**Gwen:** You’ve got a boat?

**Porker:** Heck no. You think I’m made of money? I rented one. Much cheaper.

**Gwen:** Awesome! I’ve never been boating before.

**Porker:** Then I’ll see you in an hour. Bring the usual, rockstar.

**Gwen:** One day you need to take a turn in bringing the picnic.

**Porker:** Please. I’d eat it all before you even arrived.

**Gwen:** You’re lucky you’re not exaggerating or else I might just be annoyed. See you in an hour!

…

Picnic basket in hand, Gwen appeared in the middle of Ham’s apartment. Enhanced hearing allowed her to pick up the sound of tapping keys and she went to Ham’s office. The door was ajar and she lightly rapped her knuckles against it.

“Ready to go?”

“Sorry, rockstar, you’re gonna have to give me another half-hour,” said Ham, his voice sharp with agitation. “Jackelson moved up my deadline—which defeats the point of a deadline if you just move it whenever the heck you want, but do you think he cares?”

“No prob,” said Gwen. “I’ll just chill until you’re done.”

“Actually, can you do me a favour? Run out and fill the gas can?”

“Sure.”

“Money is in my wallet. Take ten bucks. That should do it.”

“You got it.”

Knowing that Ham was too caught him in his work to even think about sneaking out food, she set the picnic basket on his scuffed wooden coffee table. She snagged his keys from the hook near the door and ventured out into the apartment complex.

The animals that populated the building were used to her presence, so they offered nods in her direction as she passed them in the hall. Gwen rode the elevator down to the parking garage, where she liberated the gas can from his trunk. It was empty.

_Typical._

Gwen walked the few blocks to the nearest gas station, where the multitude of cartoon animals gave comical, exaggerated expressions at her appearance. When one of them stopped her to ask what the heck she was, Gwen borrowed Ham’s explanation—she was an animation error.

She reached the gas station and filled up the canister. She handed over the bright green bill with the face of a rhino printed on both sides. She took a bit of time to curiously peruse the odd candy brands lining the shelves before heading back to Ham’s.

She set the gas canister back in the trunk on her way up to the apartment. She let Ham know she was back before collapsing into the couch cushions, idly scrolling through the notifications on her phone.

It was another ten minutes later when Ham exited the office, wearing an orange flower-print button-up shirt. “Let’s get out of here,” he declared, “before Jackelson calls.”

Gwen seized the picnic basket. “Can I drive the boat?”

“No.”

Gwen pouted. “Pleeease?”

Ham rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Yes!” Gwen grinned. “Let’s go.”

“You’re in charge of bringing the gas.”

Gwen made a hum of acknowledgement, for she had already put the gas can back in Ham’s car. They drove down to the waterfront with the windows rolled down and the music blaring from the speakers. They reached the boating rental place, which was situated near the docks.

“We’re boat number seven,” spoke Ham, swinging the gear shift into ‘park’. “I’m gonna go sign out the key.”

“I’ll meet you at the boat!”

Ham grinned at her excitement. “All right, rockstar.”

Gwen swung the wicker basket as she walked down the dock, eyeing the boats with blue numbers stuck to the top of the motors. She found number seven and swiftly climbed in, careful not to rock the boat too much.

Ham showed up a few minutes later with the key, which hung on red rubber lanyard. Gwen sat in the back of the medium-sized boat and glanced out at the water, which lapped gently against the sides of the watercraft.

The motor roared to life and Gwen snapped her head around to see Ham climb into the driver’s seat. “Put on your lifejacket,” instructed Ham.

Gwen remembered seeing a flash of orange when she investigated the storage container installed in the boat. She opened the lid and tossed Ham one lifejacket while shrugging on hers. She giggled as Ham’s was one size too large, covering up his mouth and his eyes peering overtop the neon material.

“Shut up,” said Ham.

He moved the transmission shift and soon they were cruising over the water. Gwen tilted her head back, her eyes closing to enjoy the sensation of the wind and scent of the water. When the high-rise buildings and the shoreline were just blurs in the distance, Ham stopped the boat and cut the motor.

“Crack out that basket. I’m starving.”

Gwen laughed. “Of course you are.”

She unpacked the basket, arranging the plate of tuna sandwiches, bowl of pasta salad and jug of lemonade. She leaned against the back of her seat, munching on a sandwich. “What was your article about?” she asked.

Ham had unbuckled his lifejacket so he could eat. “CEO of a shoe company has been embezzling money into off-shore accounts. Someone leaked us documentation after he announced there would be 500 lay-offs due to quote unquote budget concerns.”

“That’s horrible,” said Gwen with a scowl.

“Tell me about it. What have you been up to?”

Well, when I’m out doing Spider-Woman things, I’m basically being lazy. As every teen should be during their summer holidays.”

“Hear, hear!” said Ham, and they clinked their plastic lemonade-filled glasses.

When the food was polished away, Gwen let out a contented sigh and sprawled out against the floor of the boat. “This is really nice.”

“It is,” said Ham, regarding the flat sapphire sparkling water and clear blue skies. “Ready to make some waves?”

“Definitely.”

For a few hours they cruised around the water. Gwen managed to persuade Ham to let her drive, and he taught her how to work the transmission shift. She grinned broadly as the wind sent her blonde hair flying behind her, the sun warming her face and neck.

“Great job,” said Ham, impressed.

“And you were worried,” teased Gwen.

Ham was happy to relax in his seat, watching Gwen guide the boat in looping circles and steady lines. A while later, there was a great sputtering sound, and Gwen jolted. “What’d I do?” she asked anxiously.

“Nothing, this time,” said Ham. “It just ran outta gas. I’ll refill it.”

He turned towards the storage container, missing the flash of both realization and horror on Gwen’s features. When he discovered only the wicker basket in the storage container, he turned to stare at the fifteen-year-old.

“Gwen.”

“Yes?” she squeaked.

“Where’s the gas?”

“In…in the trunk of your car.”

Ham closed his eyes. “Why did you leave it in the car?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted the gas for!” cried Gwen. “As a refill for the car! You didn’t tell me to bring it!”

“Yes I did! I told you you’re in charge of bringing the gas!”

“How was I supposed to know you meant for the gas to be for the boat? I thought it was an electric motor!”

“If that was the case, I would have told you to bring extra batteries!”

“Oh, very funny. It’s not my fault!” said Gwen stubbornly.

“We’re stranded,” said Ham flatly.

“What about these oars?” insisted Gwen, pointing to the two wooden paddles hooked to the inside wall of the boat. “They’re for emergencies, right?”

Ham silently picked up one oar and dipped it into the water. Gwen recoiled as small, sharp-toothed piranhas immediately leapt above the water’s service to gnaw on the wood. He yanked it out, revealing that the paddle had been completely devoured.

“That,” uttered Gwen, “makes absolutely no sense.”

…

**Peni:** How did the boating go?

**Gwen:** No no no don’t ask

**Porker:** Let me answer your question with a question. If I told you to bring gas on a boating expedition, what would you think the gas if for?

**Miles:** Uh…the car?

**Peni:** The car?

**Gwen:** THANK YOU

**Porker:** The education has failed you.

**Peter B:** Okay what happened?

**Porker:** I told Gwen to bring the gas and she did—but she left it in the car instead of bringing it in the boat. The motor ran out of gas and in the end we had to abandon the boat in the middle of the water and use our PMT to escape.

**Peter B:** Why couldn’t you just row the boat back? They usually come with emergency oars.

**Gwen:** Yeah, don’t go swimming in the water in Ham’s world. There are piranhas.

**Peter B:** WHAT?

**Gwen:** That’s what I said.

**Gwen:** We’re all in agreement that this is not my fault, right? Ham was so not clear enough in what the gas was for.

**Porker:** Do you know the money I’m going to have to pay for leaving that thing out there? I should have just bought my own boat.

**Gwen:** I said I was sorry!

**Porker:** I know. I guess I should have been clearer.

**Gwen:** Hey, at least now I’ll know for next time. There will be a next time, right?

**Porker:** Course there will be. But I’m never going to let you live this down.

**Gwen:** Of course not.


	4. We All Scream for Ice-cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an ice-cream challenge in a new shop in Peni's New York, and of course the girl has to give it a shot. Noir's there to supervise, and to make sure she doesn't pass out in a sugar coma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Ice-cream

**Peni:** A new ice-cream shop just opened and they’ve got this challenge called Sundae Mountain. It’s a massive sundae and if I eat it all in thirty minutes, I’ll get free ice-cream for me and up to three people that come with me for a year.

 **Miles:** DO IT

 **Gwen:** Those poor employees won’t know what’s about to hit them

 **Noir:** Do we need to have another talk about your sugar intake, doll?

 **Peni:** For the last time, the future has many cures for diseases and conditions brought on by unhealthy eating.

 **Peter B:** But not the common cold.

 **Peni:** A) That’s sort of impossible and B) Humanity has long since proven to have their priorities out of order.

 **Porker:** Go for it, gumball! Give me that free ice-cream.

 **Noir:** It would be nice if you fellas could throw me a bone here.

 **Peter B:** Noir, I know you care about her health. But let’s be honest. She’s a sugar monster. She’ll find a way to get to that sundae whether she has our permission or not.

 **Peni:** Why don’t you come with me, Noir? It’ll be fun!

 **Noir:** All right. See you in a few, sweetheart.

 **Peni:** Wooo!

…

Noir and Peni entered the ice-cream shop, the exterior of which was bright pink and a holographic screen hovered above the building, advertising the name of the establishment as well as a picture of Sundae Mountain.

The interior was a paler pink, so it was easier on the eyes, and small circular white tables were scattered along the tiled floor. The servers were robots, and though Noir had seen robots in Peni’s world many times, they never failed to unsettle him.

There were a couple of humans behind the counter, and they beamed when Peni skipped up to them. “Miss Parker! What can we do for you?”

“I’d like the Sundae Mountain, please,” said Peni brightly. “Noir, what do you want?”

The two teens sent Noir a curious glance, but he ignored them. “Just a float.”

He went to retrieve some money from the pocket of his trench coat but Peni swatted his hand away. “I got it,” she said, holding out a slim silver card with her name printed on it. The employees gave her a discount, as most businesses in New York did for their heroine. Peni tapped her card against the small black square resting in the middle of the counter and it beeped, signifying that her payment had been accepted.

“Can I have a sample of Cotton Candy Bliss for SP//dr?” asked Peni, her eyes rapidly scanning the holographic menu.

“Of course!”

Peni accepted the small white metal cup and brought it over to a table in the corner. She set it down and grinned as SP//dr climbed from her shoulder to nurse at the sweet treat. “You’re welcome!”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re bats for sugar?” asked Noir in bemusement.

“Sure,” said Peni, unbothered. “All the time. It drives my aunt and uncle crazy. But I can’t help it. I love the taste. The varieties of sweet and sour combinations. The buzz that courses through my veins.”

“Ya got a problem.”

Though his black mask and thick goggles covered his face, Peni could practically feel the disapproval radiating from him. She smiled innocently. “I could have worse problems.”

Noir couldn’t exactly argue with that.

A few minutes later a robot wearing a pink apron came over with a tall glass of vanilla ice-cream mixed with root beer. But Noir barely registered when his drink was placed in front of him—his eyes were drawn to the massive dessert piled into a large silver bowl.

It looked to be ten scoops of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice-cream. It was covered in whipped cream, chocolate and caramel sauce, and there were about a dozen stemless maraschino cherries were arranged over an absolute avalanche of multi-coloured sprinkles.

Peni positively beamed.

“Why?” asked Noir flatly.

Peni seized her spoon, her eyes dancing. “Why not?”

“Are you ready?” the robot asked.

“Yup!”

“You have thirty minutes to finish Sundae Mountain. The timer starts—now!”

In the black strip that acted as its eyes, a countdown appeared. Peni immediately dug into the dessert, starting with the cherries. She dropped the whipped cream covered fruit into her mouth two by two, chewing rapidly.

“Don’t choke,” warned Noir.

Peni nodded to show she heard him. When the cherries were finished, she tackled the ice-cream. She was slower and more methodical than she was with the cherries, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Noir had tugged up the bottom of his mask so he could spoon vanilla and root beer into his mouth.

“It’s all about strategy,” said Peni through a mouthful of strawberry. “If I eat it too fast, I’m just going to get a brain freeze.”

“I think a brain freeze is the last thing ya should be worried about,” said Noir, who did not believe it was at all healthy for such a tiny girl to be consuming such massive amounts of food.

But he could not help but be impressed as Peni made steady progress. With each minute that ticked down the mountain grew smaller and smaller. When there was only two minutes left, Peni was scooping up the melted bits with her spoon. She let out a whoop and raised her arms victoriously.

“Winner!” declared the robot. “The Sundae Mountain has been conquered!”

The two teens came over, regarding Peni with awe and shock. “That…that was amazing,” said the female.

“We’ve had two people try this out since we’ve opened, but no one got close,” said the male with wide eyes. “How did you do it?”

“I love sugar.”

“Clearly,” he said, and Noir gave a snort.

They handed Peni a pink card which contained her credits for free ice-cream and she burst out of the shop, absolutely vibrating with energy. “That was awesome! Wasn’t that awesome? I ate a whole mountain!”

Noir figured that by the amount of sugar Peni ate on a daily basis, she ought to have been immune to what the kids called a sugar high. But she was bouncing on her feet, her short hair bobbing, and her arms flapping.

“Come on, sweetheart,” said Noir with a shake of his head. “We’re goin’ for a jog.”

“I bet I’m faster than you! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

For the better part of two hours, they jogged through the city. Noir kept a short distance behind Peni so she was always within his sights, and he had a solid view on what was happening around her specifically. They were partway through Central Park when the buzz in her system finally died down and she hunched over, panting for breath and holding her stomach.

“I don’t feel so good,” she said meekly.

“That’s because ya ate twice your stomach size in ice-cream,” chided Noir. He scooped her up and she nuzzled into his coat. “Let’s get ya settled at home.”

…

**_Peni has uploaded 1 Photo File_ **

**Miles:** That thing is massive!

 **Porker:** Did you finish it?

 **Peni:** I sure did!

 **Gwen:** I never doubted you for a second!

 **Peter B:** How are you feeling after consuming that monstrosity?

 **Peni:** I am very tired and I have a headache.

 **Noir:** Did you take your medicine this morning, sweetheart?

 **Peni:** Yeah.

 **Peter B:** So much for the future having cures for everything.

 **Peni:** I didn’t say _everything_. Just, you know, the things that could kill me from eating too much sugar.

 **Porker:** You’re a champ, Peni! Free ice-cream, here I come.

 **Peni:** Well, you’re going to have to wait two weeks. I promised Noir I’d let up for a bit.

 **Noir:** I’ll be watching.

 **Miles:** Insert ominous music here.

 **Peni:** I know, I know.

 **Gwen:** Seriously, though, how was it?

 **Peni:** Perfection.

 **Gwen:** I might have to give it a try.

 **Noir:** Not by yourself, you’re not. She was sick on the way back. I ain’t having you sick in an alley somewhere.

 **Miles:** Gross

 **Peni:** NOIR!


	5. Fifth of July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spiders celebrate the Fourth of July on the fifth of July.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: July

**Peter B:** I know Fourth of July is out due to family plans and keeping New York free of criminals trying to use the festivities as a cover for their schemes, so how about a Fifth of July?

**Miles:** Heck yeah, I’m down.

**Peni:** I’m in!

**Gwen:** Are we talking barbeque and fireworks?

**Miles:** He’s in an apartment complex that shares one square of grass. I think fireworks are out.

**Peter B:** MJ lives in a townhouse, and she’s got her own backyard. She’s more than happy to have everyone over. Her neighbours also happen to do fireworks on the fifth, so it’s not like we’d be ticking anyone off.

**Gwen:** All right!

**Porker:** I’ll bring the fireworks!

**Peter B:** No you won’t.

**Porker:** Don’t you trust me?

**Peter B:** Absolutely not.

**Porker:** Smart man.

**Noir:** You want us to bring anything?

**Peter B:** Just yourselves. MJ is already planning out the spread.

**Miles:** Aw yeah this is gonna be great.

**Peni:** Can’t wait!

…

On the evening of July 5th, Miles, Peni and Gwen appeared in Mary Jane’s townhouse. They kicked off their shoes near the front door and held them in their hands. The three called out a greeting to signify their arrival.

“Hey kids!” said Mary Jane, her voice floating from the kitchen. “Come on through.”

They trudged down the hall and into the kitchen, where bowls covered with cling wrap and tin foil lined the counter. Mary Jane was putting the finishing touches on a garden salad, slicing up carrots and onions.

“How long have you been at it?” asked Gwen in awe.

“All morning,” said Mary Jane cheerfully. “Peter helped out with the potato salad.”

“I’ll be sure to avoid that,” joked Miles.

“We brought chips,” said Peni, proffering a plastic bag.

“I know Peter said not to bring anything but we wanted to contribute,” added Gwen.

“Thanks, you guys! There’s a table outside you can put them on.”

“Do you want any help?” asked Miles.

“No, I’m good.” Mary Jane used the hand not holding the knife to shoo them on. “The guys are in the backyard.”

The three went to the backdoor and slipped out into the soft orange sunlight. Peter was stationed at the barbeque, flipping hamburger patties and turning hot dogs. Ham looked up from his glass of lemonade and said seriously, “He’s committing an act of murder. Right in front of my lemonade.”

Peter shot a glance over his shoulder, exasperation on his features. “He won’t shut up with that stupid joke.”

“Excuse you. I think I’m hilarious.”

“Hey, kiddos,” greeted Noir.

“Hey,” chirped Peni.

“Whatcha got?” asked Ham.

“Chips.”

“Gimme.”

Gwen snorted. “You can get up and grab ‘em from the table like everyone else.”

Peni skipped across the grass to the fold-up table set up beneath the lone oak tree. She dug out the three bags of chips—potato, sour cream and onion and barbeque—and put them on the table. Ham promptly snatched the bag of barbeque chips and brought it over to his lawn chair, sprawling out and peeling the bag open.

Peni huffed. “Geez.”

Miles leaned over Ham to snag a handful. “Thaaank you.”

“How was your fourth of July?” Noir directed at the teens.

Gwen shrugged. “It was okay. I had dinner with my family, but I had to skip out on the fireworks to patrol the city. Stopped three attempted robberies on homeowners and one on a business.”

“I got you beat,” said Miles teasingly. “I stopped five robberies.”

“Ooh, look at you,” drawled Gwen.

Peni wrinkled her nose. “I wish my night was that easy. I had to deal with Mysterio. What about you guys?”

“The Green Goblin,” said Peter with a grimace, adding some barbeque sauce to the meats.

“The usual mobsters,” said Noir.

“Stopped six robberies,” said Ham smugly.

Miles sneered. “Show-off.”

“Miles, bud, can you grab me a plate?”

“Sure.”

Miles nudged off his shoes near the concrete steps and walked into the kitchen to retrieve a large white plate from the cupboard. Seeing Mary Jane carrying two bowls, he asked, “Is everything ready to be carried out?”

“Yup!”

“Awesome. Give me a sec.”

Miles went back outside and held open the door with his free hand, letting Mary Jane go first. Spotting the dishes she carried, Noir stood up and took them from her. “I got it, doll.”

Peter aimed his spatula at Noir with a mock-glare. “What’d I tell you about calling her that?”

Mary Jane grinned. “He can call me doll whenever he wants.”

“You don’t like it when I do it.”

“It sounds better coming from him.”

“We are the same person,” deadpanned Peter.

Mary Jane winked. “You definitely don’t have the same voice.”

She went back inside to collect more food. Noir shook his head in amusement and went to put the salads on the table. Gwen smirked. “Maybe he’ll give you vocal lessons.”

“Shut up,” said Peter with good humour.

With all of them helping, it only took one more trip to bring all the food outside. Along with the meats, there was pasta salad, potato salad, garden salad, Caesar salad, bean salad and carrot salad.

Ham whistled. “As always, it looks delicious.”

“Try to leave some for everyone else,” said Mary Jane playfully as she set plastic utensils and paper plates next to the food.

“Fine. I’ll let everyone go first. You better stock up, ‘cause whatever is left is mine.”

“How generous,” said Miles sarcastically.

They each seized a plate and piled it with salad, hamburgers and hot dogs. Ham and Noir returned to their lawn chairs while Peter and Mary Jane sat on the back steps. Miles, Gwen and Peni were perfectly content to sit in the grass.

“You need to get Mary Jane’s recipe for pasta salad,” Ham told Gwen. “It’s way better than yours.”

“I know,” said Gwen with a sigh. “I am but an amateur compared to her.”

“All it takes is practice,” said Mary Jane. “I can teach you some recipes, if you want.”

“That’d be cool,” said Gwen with a smile.

Peter tossed a piece of lettuce Ham’s way. “You can’t even cook, Ham. What do you know?”

“About food? Everything.”

“I think your pasta salad is the bee’s knees,” Noir told Gwen.

“At least someone appreciates my cooking,” said Gwen with a sniff.

“You know I’m messing with you,” said Ham.

Gwen stuck out her tongue at him. “I know.”

“Can I light the fireworks tonight?” Miles asked Peter through a mouthful of bean salad.

“Don’t talk with your mouth open. And heck no.”

“You didn’t think he’d say yes, did you?” Peni asked.

“I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“He did buy sparklers, so you guys can have those,” said Mary Jane.

“They came with the kit,” said Peter. “And I wasn’t going to tell them.”

“Aw, let them have some fun. They’ll be careful, right?”

“For sure!” said Miles eagerly.

Peter sent Noir and Ham a look. In a stage whisper, Peni said, “They’re doing the Dad Exchange.”

“We’ll think about it,” said Noir pointedly.

“Good enough,” decided Gwen.

They polished off a good portion of the food and the leftovers were packed up in containers. The kids helped Mary Jane wash the dishes and by the time they finished it was starting to get dark. Peter, Ham and Noir started to unpack the fireworks. When the sparklers were unearthed, Miles, Gwen and Peni appeared next to them with pleading expressions.

“All right,” said Noir. “But _no running_.”

“And don’t horse around,” warned Peter. “Or I’m dousing you with the hose.”

“Don’t stick ‘em up your nose,” added Ham.

Miles squinted. “Is that something you did?”

“Yeah, but I’m a cartoon character. Logic doesn’t apply to me.”

Peter lit the sparklers and bright golden sparks started fizzing from the tip. Noir kept his attention locked on them as they wandered around the backyard, moving the sparklers in slow, controlled patterns in the air and watching the light dance.

The sparklers died out just as the fireworks were all set up. Mary Jane brought out blankets which she and the kids wrapped around their shoulders. Since Ham literally did not need to worry about getting seriously burned, he offered to light the fireworks.

Clustered together on the steps, with Peni and Gwen tucked against Noir’s side, Miles sitting in Peter’s lap and the man’s arm around Mary Jane, they watched the colours explode in the night sky. Red, blue, yellow, green and purple created twisting designs, illuminating their faces in a multi-coloured glow.

“It’s beautiful,” said Peni with a contented sigh.

Peter reached over to ruffle her hair. “It sure is.”

When Ham finished lighting the last batch, he jogged over to join the others, and Miles pulled him into his arms. “Great job, Ham.”

“Yeah, thanks for not setting my girlfriend’s house on fire,” quipped Peter.

“You are most welcome,” returned Ham.

“Thanks for having us over, MJ,” said Miles.

Mary Jane smiled. “You know you guys are always welcome.”

“Can I have the leftovers?”

“Of course you can. Just be sure to split them with the girls.”

“Excuse me?” said Ham, affronted.

“Yes!” Peni grinned widely and fist-bumped Gwen.

“They’re growing kids. They need their nutrients and calories,” said Mary Jane, reaching over to affectionately pinch Miles’ cheek.

“What about us?” demanded Ham.

“Oh, Noir doesn’t have to worry. I already have a plate put away for him.”

“Thanks, doll,” said Noir with a tip of his hat.

Ham scowled. “Oh, sure. Play favourites. See if I care.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You ate twice more than any of us, Ham.”

“So?”

…

**Gwen:** Ham.

**Porker:** Ham is not here right now.

**Gwen:** Did you break into my kitchen to steal my leftovers?

**Gwen:** Ham?

**Gwen:** HAM!


	6. Swimsuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Peni go in search for a discounted designer swimsuit, and pull a prank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Swimsuit

**Gwen: @Peni** I’m in desperate need of a new bathing suit. Wanna come shopping with me?

**Peni:** Ooooh yes!

**Noir:** Be real conservative with your swimwear choices, dolls.

**Gwen:** I knew I should have done this in a private chat.

**Peter B:** If you do not pass inspection, you do not pass Go.

**Gwen:** Ha ha.

**Porker:** Keep tan lines in mind.

**Gwen:** Will do!

**Noir:** That’s all you have to say?

**Porker:** I feel sorry for any guy who tries to sleazily hit on her. She’ll break their nose.

**Gwen:** Darn right I will.

**Peni:** Relax, we’re not gonna go crazy. I’ll see you in a few, Gwen!

**_Peni has logged off_ **

**Noir:** Have fun. And be conservative. I mean it.

**Gwen:** Yeah, yeah. Later!

…

The two teens walked through the outdoor mall, the sun beating down on their exposed skin. They got moments of reprieve from the heat when they popped into the stores, which blasted the air-conditioning at full power.

“Gwen, I can’t afford any of these stores,” said Peni, both amused and horrified as she scanned the price tags on designer swimsuits. “Can _anyone_ afford these clothes?”

“Yeah. The one percent, and those who make questionable financial decisions,” replied Gwen, her eyes sweeping over the racks and display tables. “Nope. On to the next one.”

“What are you looking for?” asked Peni as they walked out.

“Clearance.” Gwen raised a finger, a grin on her features. “Sure, the swimsuits on clearance in these fancy stores are out of style and a season old, but I don’t care. Their stupid logic means I get designer clothes at super discounted prices. We just gotta find the right one.”

“Is this how you do most of your shopping?”

“Heck no. Even clearance prices are a hundred dollars or more. I save up and when I’ve got enough, I splurge.”

“Fair enough,” said Peni with a giggle.

It took a few more stores, but eventually they found one with several metal clothing racks stuffed in the corner, with yellow signs reading _Clearance_ taped to the sides. Gwen and Peni high-fived and made a beeline for it, where they joined the people swarming the previous season’s summer line-up.

“The thing is we can’t be picky,” muttered Gwen, finding a free space and rifling through the sparse selection of bathing suits.

After fifteen minutes of searching and then trying on, they each found a swimsuit. Gwen’s was a black one piece with gold straps and gold lettering that spelled out _Succi._ Peni’s was a green one piece covered in colourful flowers with a silver logo in the upper right corner.

“Considering the regular price was four hundred dollars, we didn’t make out too bad,” said Peni brightly as they exited the store with their white paper shopping bags. “Wanna get a smoothie?”

“Sure. There’s a stand by the—” Gwen’s words cut off as her eyes caught something in the window in the store across the way. She came to a halt and pushed back her blonde bangs, unsure if she was seeing things. “What the heck is that?”

Peni stared, dumbfounded. “It looks like a swimsuit.”

“It’s missing, you know, _everything_.”

“I don’t Noir would consider that conservative at all,” said Peni. “In fact, I think he might have a heart attack.”

Mischief immediately sparkled in Gwen’s eyes. She whipped out her phone and took a picture of the swimsuit that was mostly black strings and very little fabric. Peni laughed, a mixture of shocked and delighted.

“You’re _not._ ”

“I so am.”

“He’s going to kill us.”

“Oh, for sure.”

…

**_Gwen has uploaded 1 Photo File_ **

**Gwen:** We found the perfect bathing suit

**Peter B:** What the hell is that?

**Porker:** Okay listen I know I was chill but there is a line, and that is definitely crossing it

**Peter B:** You better be joking.

**Peni:** What’s wrong with it? I think it’s kaehflfhihgi

**Gwen:** NOIR’S HERE

**Porker:** He works fast.

**Peter B:** Hello?

**Porker:** I think he killed them.

**Gwen:** Holy crap.

**Peni:** That was terrifying

**Gwen:** But so worth it.

**Peter B:** You got some guts. I’ll give you that.

**Porker:** Seriously what kind of store sells a bundle of strings as a swimsuit?

**Noir:** That _wasn’t funny._

**Miles:** Oh my gosh what the heck have you two been doing today?


	7. Slip and Slide and Ouchies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spiders build a slip and slide in Peni's backyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Slippery
> 
> Mention of blood and minor injury in this chapter.

**Gwen:** Important question—am I too old for a slip and slide?

**Noir:** A what?

**Gwen:** It’s this inflatable thing that you hook a hose to and water squirts out of the holes, making it super slippery. It’s vertical so you’re supposed to run and try to slide as far and fast as you can down it.

**Noir:** Sounds like a bang of a time.

**Miles:** Of course you’re not too old. The real question is do you have the money for it?

**Porker:** The answer is most definitely no.

**Peni:** Not after that designer bathing suit!

**Gwen:** Oh shush.

**Porker:** Why don’t you just make one?

**Gwen:** Interesting. How?

**Porker:** Lotta dish soap, baby oil, a hose and a tarp.

**Gwen:** I don’t have most of those things.

**Porker:** Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. We’re just gonna need a backyard.

**Peni:** You can use mine!

**Miles:** If you’re building a slip and slide, I am so coming over.

**Peter B:** Count me in.

**Noir:** Me too.

**Peni:** Yay!

**Gwen:** All right!

…

When Ham arrived in Peni’s backyard, armed with two boxes of dish soap and a rolled-up tarp, he was the recipient of two suspicious stares. “What?”

Noir crossed his arms over his scarred chest. He didn’t own a bathing suit of his own, since he disliked having his scars exposed and therefore avoided beaches and pools in his own universe. But he was comfortable in the company of his family and Peter gave him a set of black trunks to wear whenever they did water-based activities.

“Did ya get those on the sly?” he asked suspiciously.

“If you mean illegally, no,” said Ham. “And I’m offended that you’d think so.”

“Where did you get all that dish soap?” asked Peter.

“I have my ways,” said Ham with a wink. With an expert flick of his wrist the tarp unfolded and laid across the lawn in one smooth motion. “Turn the water on, gumball.”

Peni jogged across the grass to retrieve the green hose. She dragged it over and placed it at one end of the tarp. She went to twist the handle and cold water gushed out, spewing across the blue material.

They each seized a bottle of pink dish soap and started covering the tarp with it. In seconds the colour of the tarp could barely be seen in the thick layer of bubbles.

“I’m going first!” whooped Miles. He went sailing down the tarp, sending bubbles and water spraying in all directions. He rolled out onto the grass and he sprang to his feet, uncaring of the dirt and grass sticking to his legs and torso. “That was awesome!”

“I think we better get something to make for a soft landing,” said Peter, eyeing the ground. “Before one of us gets impaled by a twig.”

“I have some beanbag chairs,” offered Peni. “I don’t mind if they get wet.”

Noir and Peter went to get the items from the girl’s bedroom and they arranged the orange and pink beanbags at the end of tarp. Gwen went next, spinning as she went down the slip and slide, and came to a cushy halt.

“This is the best thing ever!” she declared.

Ham bowed. “You’re welcome.”

For the better part of an hour they took turns sliding down the tarp. Noir was adamant that they only went one at a time, to prevent any injury.

So, when the three adults went into Peni’s house to retrieve some beverages, Miles said quickly, “Come on let’s have a race.”

And of course Gwen and Peni saw no reason to protest.

“Three…two…one!” said Peni.

They sprinted down a small stretch of grass and launched into flying jumps. They struck the tarp and as they careened down it, Gwen’s vision was suddenly obstructed by stars. “Ow!”

Miles made a wheezing sound as Peni accidentally kicked him in the side. When they slid into the beanbags, Peni let her legs rest against the soft material and she stared dazedly at the sky. She rubbed her arm, which was throbbing. “Miles, you landed on my arm!”

“You punctured a lung,” rasped Miles, still curled up on the tarp, water pooling around his body.

“Am I bleeding?” asked Gwen thickly, holding her nose.

“Yes.”

“We can’t leave you alone together for five seconds, can we?” asked Ham in exasperation, stepping out of Peni’s house with cans of soda.

Noir immediately went over to Gwen’s side. “What’s wrong?” he asked sharply.

“I’m fine,” insisted Gwen, even as blood stained her fingers. “Just a bloody nose. Miles’ foot went into my face.”

“What were ya doin’?”

“Miles wanted to race and we all went to slide at the same time.” She flinched at Noir’s glower. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” echoed Peni. She tried to push herself up but her injured arm did not cooperate. “Ow ow ow.”

Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up. “What happened?”

“Miles landed on my arm,” muttered Peni, wincing as she tried to move it.

“It’s not broken,” said Peter, studying it. “It’s definitely badly bruised. We’ll get you some ice for it.” He glanced at Miles, who was still winded. “You okay, bud?”

“Peni kicked me in the stomach,” he gasped.

“Relax, Picasso, you’re good,” soothed Ham, running his fingers through Miles’ hair. “In and out. Slow and steady.”

“Do ya see why I told you not to go all at once?” asked Noir in annoyance. He had an arm over Gwen’s shoulders, his other hand keeping Gwen’s head tipped forward so the blood did not build up in her nostrils.

“Yes,” said Gwen, her voice nasally.

“Let’s get ya cleaned up,” said Noir with a shake of his head. He scooped Gwen up into his arms and brought her into the house.

“You too, squirt,” said Peter, ruffling Peni’s hair. “Come on.”

Ham sat down, bringing Miles’ head to rest against his lap. “How’re you doing?”

“Better.”

“You know, I brought the stuff to make a slip and slide so we could have fun, not so you kids could maim each other.”

…

**Miles:** How’s your arm, Peni?

**Peni:** There’s a nifty pattern of bruises! Kinda looks like someone took a paintbrush and made streaks with black and blue paint.

**Miles:** My bad, Pen.

**Peni:** It’s okay! It was an accident. Sorry about kicking you.

**Miles:** It’s cool. Gwen? You good?

**Gwen:** Yup! I also got a nasty bruise, though. Had to tell my dad I got hit in the face with a stray basketball from a street game.

**Noir:** Next time, listen.

**Peter B:** He doesn’t have all these rules _just_ because he’s a boring, serious adult.

**Noir:** Watch it.

**Miles:** Sorry. I just really wanted to show the girls up in a race.

**Porker:** How did that work out for you?

**Miles:** Not great.


	8. A Camping We Will Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spiders go camping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by TeenSpiriT10's story The Camping Trip.

**Peter B:** Campsite is rented. You guys still good to go?

 **Miles:** Heck yeah!

 **Gwen:** I’ve already started packing.

 **Porker:** We’ve still got a few days.

 **Gwen:** I’m excited.

 **Noir:** Wouldn’t miss it.

 **Peni:** I’ve never been camping before!

 **Miles:** We’ll show you the ropes.

 **Peter B:** Cool. I’ll send you kids a packing list so you can make sure you pack everything you need.

 **Gwen:** I told you I already started packing.

 **Miles:** I don’t need a packing list.

 **Peter B:** I don’t care I’m sending the packing list.

…

Miles, Gwen and Peni watched with exasperation as the adults meticulously went through their duffle bags. Gwen fell back against Peter’s mattress, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. “Seriously? B already sent us a packing list. Now you have to inspect?”

“I don’t want you spending most of the weekend popping back to your dimensions to retrieve the things you forgot,” returned Peter, rummaging through Miles’ clothes and doing a mental inventory. “Such as a towel and sunscreen. And you didn’t bring a lawn chair like I told you.”

“Oh.” Miles smiled sheepishly. “My bad. Er, anything else?”

“Yeah. Shampoo and conditioner.”

Miles wrinkled his nose. “I showered this morning.”

“And you’re probably gonna need another one this weekend when you inevitably get filthy,” said Peter firmly. “I’m not dealing with any stank.”

“Fine,” said Miles with a huff.

He tapped his PMT and vanished. Peni giggled at their antics before abruptly becoming horrified when she noticed what Noir was doing. “Hey! Why are you taking out my candy?”

Pure white lenses flashed at her as Noir frowned. “Ya don’t need five bags of sweets.”

“But what about snacks?” protested Peni.

“I got that covered,” voiced Ham, patting the blue and white cooler. “Pete’s got his own stash.”

“Which means we’ve got more than enough food,” said Peter pointedly. “Leave the candy, Pen.”

“Aw, man,” she said with a pout.

She gathered the plastic bags of colourful candy into her arms and returned to her dimension to drop it off. Ham joked, “We just saved a bear from getting a horrible stomach ache.”

Noir snorted. “Tell me about it.”

Deeming that Peni had packed everything she was supposed to, Noir zipped up the bright pink bag. Gwen crossed her arms and glanced at Ham. “Well?”

“You did good, rockstar.” Ham nodded and closed up the girl’s bag.

Gwen pumped her fist. “Ha ha, I win!”

“It ain’t a competition, doll,” said Noir.

“It’s a little bit of a competition.”

Miles and Peni returned a few minutes later and when they were all set, they typed in the coordinates to the national park in which Peter had booked a campsite. They appeared just in front of a log cabin. Peter handed Noir the rectangular bag that contained the tent.

“Probably best if I go alone to check us in. They might freak if they see, you know, two of us,” Peter said, gesturing between himself and Noir.

“Right. That’s what would freak them out. Not the fact he’s black and white,” deadpanned Gwen. “Or the fact we’re hanging out with a cartoon pig.”

“How’s the disguise feature going?” Miles asked Peni.

Peni gave him a thumbs-up. “Making good progress!”

When Peter came back out, they started down the dirt path that snaked through the thick woods. Birds chirped from the thicket and their enhanced hearing picked up rustling of small animals darting through the bushes and undergrowth.

Their campsite was a few miles into the woods. Peter dropped the tent and his backpack onto the dirt ground and stretched his arms over his head, his red T-shirt riding up slightly and exposing his gut. “All right, fam. First order of business. Whoever didn’t already apply sunscreen will do so now.”

Miles, Peni, Gwen and Ham grumbled before digging their bottles of sunscreen from their bags. Noir crossed his arms and sent Ham a flat glance. “Really?”

“What? I’m a cartoon. The sunburn usually goes away after a minute,” replied Ham.

He lifted the bottle over his head and squeezed. The sunscreen gushed from the cap and covered him head to hoof. He gave his body a sharp shake and the excess sunscreen flew off. Miles stared at him, halfway through rubbing the lotion onto his arm.

“Dang. I wish it was that easy for me.”

When they were lathered up, Peter started wrangling tent poles and the tent fabric out of the container. “Now that the risk of skin cancer has been reduced, get over here and help me set this thing up.”

For fifteen minutes, they fumbled with the metal poles and wooden stakes. Noir started to swear when Ham accidentally whacked his hand with a mallet, but cut himself off when he remembered the kids were present. Miles accidentally got himself tangled in the dark green material and Gwen had to pull him free.

“Whew,” breathed Miles, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “This thing is _massive_.”

The tent was a ten-person sleeper and took up almost more than half of the dirt lot. Gwen lifted her black sunglasses to rest on top of her head as she peeked inside. “Whoa. I don’t think I’m going to be elbowing anyone in my sleep.”

“The tent is up. Now what do we do?” asked Peni eagerly, bouncing on her toes.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sweating bullets,” declared Ham. Indeed, literal bullet-sized sweat drops were cascading down his pink skin. “How about we cool off?”

“Swimming,” cheered the Spiderlings.

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Peter. “The lake isn’t too far away.”

They changed in the tent one at a time. Peni and Gwen were wearing their clearance-sale designer swimsuits. Miles and Noir wore black swim trunks. Peter was wearing a white muscle shirt and red trunks. Ham wore blue trunks and comically thick swimming goggles.

“Let’s go!” whooped Peni.

She charged down the path that led further into the woods with Gwen and Miles hot on her tail. “Not too far, fellas,” called Noir sharply and the kids reluctantly slowed their pace.

The lake was a gorgeous, shimmering dark blue. The sunlight sparkled off the surface and the bank sloped down to the water. Towels and flip-flops were discarded onto the grass as they charged into water. Gwen gasped as the cold cut through her flesh like pins and needles.

“Cold! Very cold!”

“And refreshing!” said Ham cheerfully.

Peni gaped as Ham walked directly on the water. He yanked up his blue swimsuit, gave his butt a wiggle and hopped, where he then plunged below the surface.

“I wish I was a cartoon,” she said in awe.

“Don’t stray too far from shore,” instructed Peter as Miles started to do a front stroke. When the boy didn’t answer, he added, “Acknowledgement please, bud.”

“Yeah, I hear you!” answered Miles, pausing to tread water. “C’mon, let’s have a swim race!”

“No cartoon boondoggle,” warned Noir.

“I beg your pardon?” asked Gwen with a snort.

“Cheating,” translated Peni with a giggle.

They started a few feet away from the bank, where the water was up to the waists of the kids. It came as no surprise when Noir won, the muscles rippling in his back and arms. Ham was second and Gwen was third. Miles was disgruntled that Gwen beat him, but he beat Peter, so his ego was soothed.

“I woulda beat Gwen, but my foot had a cramp,” said Miles with a sniff.

“Yeah right. Sore loser,” jeered Gwen, splashing him with water.

Miles spluttered. “Oh, it’s on now.”

As Miles and Gwen engaged in a vicious splash war, Peni floated on her back, staring up at the blue sky. Her sigh of contentment was interrupted with a shriek as Peter hefted her up into the air and threw her back into the water. Peni kicked to the surface and when she broke through, she gave a delighted giggle.

“Again!”

Gwen and Miles paused to watch Peter toss Peni in the air. “Ooh, me!” Gwen cried.

“Me too!” insisted Miles.

“What are you, six?” teased Peter.

“Come here, rookie.” Noir swept Miles into his arms and flung him high. Miles landed with a loud splash and he whooped as he came back up. “Your turn, jitterbug.”

“All right,” groaned Peter after a few rounds of this. “I better quit before my back does.”

“Old,” sang Gwen, and she ducked underwater when Peter took a swipe at her.

For a while, they swam lazily in the water, the sun shining down on them. Gwen moved to a spot where she was able to stand, her feet sinking into the muddy bank. She idly waded through the water, feeling the mud squish between her toes.

A sudden sharp, piercing pain went through the sole of foot. She let out a yelp which was quickly garbled as she went underwater, her right leg crumpling in instinct to alleviate the agony. She fumbled underwater, trying to kick but her foot screaming when she flexed it.

But rescue came in a second. Someone seized her arm and yanked back above the surface. Gwen gasped for breath, her face pinched as she clung to Peter’s arm and kept her right foot lifted. “What happened?” demanded Peter.

“My foot,” said Gwen breathlessly. “I—I stepped on something.”

Peter swept Gwen into his hold and carried her out of the water. Blood streamed down her foot and Ham, spotting the seriousness of her injury, was quick to go to her side. “Swimmin’ time is over,” said Noir curtly, picking Peni and Miles up with each arm and carrying them out of the lake.

Peter jammed his feet into his blue flip-flops. Figuring it would be quicker to run rather than spend time researching the coordinates for their exact campsite, Peter sprinted down the path. When they reached the campsite, Ham darted into the tent and started rummaging through Peter’s bag for the first-aid kit.

“Someone get me a blanket,” ordered Peter.

Miles ran into the tent and seized a red blanket. He spread it out against the dirt and Ham followed him with the small white kit. Peter put Gwen down and cleaned the blood from her foot. There was a slim, sharp rock stuck in her skin and he used a pair of tweezers to pull it out.

“Ow!” Gwen whined.

“I know,” soothed Peter.

He studied the thin gash intently. The removal of the rock did not drastically increase the blood flow. He disinfected the wound and wrapped a bandage securely around the foot. “Okay. I’m gonna check on it in a few hours to make sure it’s not getting infected. Does it feel okay?”

“It’s throbbing, but otherwise fine,” replied Gwen. She grinned sheepishly. “That was a buzzkill. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” said Ham, lightly chucking her chin. “Glad you’re okay.”

Peter straightened. “Yeah, it’s all good, kiddo.” The scent of lake water was strong and he wrinkled his nose. “We should probably wash up. I’m gonna see if I can find something to keep your foot protected. You shouldn’t get the bandages wet.”

After locating a plastic bag, the group filed to the showers with a change of clothes. They returned to their campsite twenty minutes later freshly washed. Since it was lunchtime, Peter figured it was time to make some food.

Miles perked up as Peter and Noir started to build a fire-ring with nearby stones and rocks. “Peni and I can grab the firewood.”

“I don’t know,” said Noir dubiously.

“Please?” begged Peni.

“I’m fine with it, so long as you don’t do anything stupid,” said Peter. “Keep near the path and don’t take any wood from the trees. Ground only. Kindling and tinder. Nothing massive.”

“You got it!”

“Can I go?” asked Gwen.

“No,” said Peter, Noir and Ham at once.

Gwen shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

Miles and Peni disappeared into the woods. They travelled a distance away from the campsite, eyes peeled for any small pieces of wood that would make for good firewood.

“Miles,” whispered Peni excitedly. “Look!”

A few feet away, nibbling at the flowers, was a baby deer. Miles and Peni watched for a moment before Miles said quietly, “Let’s see if we can get closer.”

They inched their way further into the brush. Miles wriggled his way through a shrub and stepped over the edge of a small slope that had been hidden by the thick leaves. He yelped as he fell directly into a puddle of mud. Startled, the animal sprinted off.

“Oh my gosh!” said Peni, torn between sympathy and laughter. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” said Miles with a groan. He was absolutely covered in mud. It was caked against his clothes and skin. “Come on. Let’s get the firewood.”

They returned to the campsite after fifteen minutes and Noir sighed at the sight of the boy. “What did ya do?”

“I fell,” said Miles moodily.

“He fell,” said Peni with a nod.

“This is the kind of filth I was talking about,” said Peter in amusement. “Go get washed up. Again.”

Miles groaned and retrieved yet another set of clothes. When he returned from his second shower it was to see a simmering campfire with hot dogs and corn on the cob roasting on the grill rack. The smells were heavenly.

“I’m starved,” he said feelingly.

“It should be ready in a few minutes,” said Peter. “Here, put your clothes near the tent. We’ll wash them at the lake when we’re done eating.”

After they were well-fed, Peter put out the fire and he and Miles went to the lake to wash the boy’s soiled clothes. When that was done, the Spiders spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the forest. They returned to the campsite when dusk started to fall, where Peter renewed the fire and they cooked more corn and smores for dessert.

“Sweetheart, I said no more,” said Noir in exasperation, wrangling the bag of marshmallows from Peni’s grasp.

“Just one more!” protested Peni.

“No. Ya already had ten.” Noir wiped a blob of melted chocolate from her chin. “I think ya had your fill.”

Peni pouted. But she quickly cheered when Miles, Gwen and Ham snuck her more chocolate when Noir wasn’t looking.

The darkness surrounded them, punctures by the red and orange flames licking towards the inky expanse above. “So, guys, how was the first day of camping?” asked Peter.

“Well, besides my accident, pretty dang good,” said Gwen. Her injured foot was propped up in Miles’ lap. Peter had changed the bandages. There was no infection in her cut and no new blood, which relieved everyone.

“And besides my two showers, ditto,” said Miles, tilting his head back to drop in a roasted marshmallow.

“And Noir taking away my candy, same,” said Peni.

Noir swiftly reached over and nicked the square of chocolate she was trying to hide. “I don’t think ya have a reason to complain.” He elbowed Ham in the side and aimed a finger at Miles and then Gwen. “Stop smugglin’ her more sugar.”

“All right, all right,” said Ham with a laugh. “Renting this campsite was a great idea, B.”

“I’m havin’ a swell time,” said Noir sincerely.

Peter’s expression was soft. “Me too.”

With the moon bright and silver in the sky, they extinguished the fire, packed away the food and got into their tent, where they secured the zippers and got the bear spray out and ready in case of an unwanted midnight visitor.

They snuggled into their sleeping bags, which were sandwiched close together. Peni yawned. “Good night.”

“Good night,” returned Ham, ruffling her hair.

“G’night,” said Miles, wriggling further into the warmth of his sleeping bag.

“Night,” said Gwen.

“Night,” echoed Peter.

“Good night, fellas,” said Noir fondly.

…

 **Miles:** I left my swimsuit at the campsite.

 **Peter B:** Are you serious?

 **Miles:** Well, we didn’t go swimming again because Gwen couldn’t! So I completely forgot I left it hanging in the shower stall.

 **Gwen:** Sure. Blame me.

 **Porker:** But you had a shower several times.

 **Miles:** I didn’t use the same stall!

 **Noir:** We told you to make sure you had everything packed before we left.

 **Peter B:** I’ll pop over and see if it’s still there, buddy.

**_Peter B has logged off_ **

**Miles:** Thanks, man.

 **Gwen:** You’re so irresponsible.

 **Miles:** Oh, shut up.

 **Peni:** We’re gonna camping again one day, right? Cause it was awesome!

 **Miles:** For sure.

 **Gwen:** I’ll wear shoes in the lake next time.

 **Porker:** Definitely.

 **Noir:** You know it, doll.

 **Porker:** B would also be saying yes but he had to go retrieve Miles’ stinky swimsuit.

 **Miles:** Ham!


	9. Strawberry Picking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peni and Peter have a strawberry-filled day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Strawberry

**Peter B:** I’m going strawberry picking. You kids want to come?

**Miles:** Strawberry picking? In this heat? No thanks.

**Gwen:** I’ll just get my strawberries from the grocery store, like humans were meant to.

**Peni:** I’ll go! It’ll be a great time to test the disguise feature.

**Peter B:** Then it’s you and me, squirt. It’s gonna be a bit of a drive, so you might want to stay for the night.

**Peni:** Okay, I’ll pack a sleepover bag.

**Peter B:** See you in about ten minutes?

**Peni:** Yup! See you soon!

…

Peni rested her elbow against the open car window and watched the scenery go by. They had long since left the congested streets of the city and were cruising through upstate New York, where rolling green fields and farmland gave a stark contrast to the familiar bustling metropolitan area.

They had been driving for the past three hours in Mary Jane’s car, which Peter had borrowed. They had chatted for most of the ride and were now sitting in contented silence. The wind battered Peni’s hair and the summer sun shone down on her face. “Are we almost there?” she asked.

Peter’s eyes were blocked by his sunglasses but Peni detected his amusement through the quirk of his lips. “Sick of me already?”

Peni gave a nod. “Very much,” she said with mock-seriousness.

Peter snorted and lightly shoved her shoulder. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Yeah, we’re almost there. Should be arriving in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. I can’t wait!”

“You ever been strawberry picking before?”

“No. I didn’t really do outdoorsy things growing up.” Peni picked at a loose thread of her pink shorts. “My dad was, you know, busy doing hero things.”

“It’s easy to get caught up in hero things,” said Peter softly. “But it’s important to take a break, even if its hard to do so.”

“Yeah, he never really learned that. But I’m really happy to be able to do this with you.”

There was sincerity in her expression and Peter felt his heart swell. “Me too, kiddo.”

They arrived at the farm and Peter parked in the stone lot. Peni hopped out and lowered her red-framed sunglasses to sit over her eyes. She peered off into the distance, at the rows upon rows of thriving strawberry plants.

“That’s a lot of strawberries.”

“Pretty impressive, huh?” Peter clicked a button on the key fob and the car beeped twice, signalling it was locked. “Come on. Let’s get our baskets.”

“One sec.” Peni raised her PMT and tapped a button. “Okay. I’m set.”

Peter raised a brow. “If that was the disguise feature, I don’t think it worked.”

“The PMTs are connected,” explained Peni. “I programmed the cloaking feature so it wouldn’t affect us. To keep Noir satisfied.”

“How will you know if it works?”

“We’re about to find out!”

There was a building off to the side of the main house, where the owners lived. There were a few tables stocked with homemade baked goods and sweets and Peni zeroed in on the strawberry flavoured lollipops. “Can I have some?” she asked eagerly.

“Fine,” said Peter, handing over a few extra dollar bills. “But don’t tell you-know-who.”

The woman didn’t give Peni an odd, baffled or scared glance. Neither did the clusters of people who were milling about the plants picking strawberries. Peni beamed and unwrapped one of the lollipops from her bunch and stuck it in her mouth.

“It works,” she said smugly. “No more weird stares.”

Peter shook his head. “I’d say you’re a genius but that’s more of a fact than a compliment.”

They were each armed with three green plastic baskets. They started to move down the row, studying the bright red berries. “Do I just grab whichever ones I want?” asked Peni.

“Basically, yeah. But make sure they’re not too mushy or bruised.”

Peni began to fill up her basket, making sure to pick the good-looking strawberries. A particularly large one was tempting, so she started to bring it to her mouth to take a bite. Peter noticed and hastily swatted at her hand, sending the strawberry falling into her basket.

“What was that for?” whined Peni.

“Don’t eat them until we wash them,” instructed Peter.

“Right. Forget about that part,” muttered Peni.

She resorted to snacking on another lollipop. Peter laughed and ruffled her short black hair. “At least try not to eat all of them in one day.”

“Okay.”

After a while their baskets were brimming with strawberries. Peni balanced them in her arms and said, “What are you going to with all of these?”

“Well, you get to keep yours,” replied Peter. “So that’s up to you. But as for mine, it’s a surprise.”

They returned to the building and Peter bought a couple of plastic-wrapped sandwiches on buns and bottles of water. They sat down at the picnic tables near the parking lot to eat their lunch. Peni wiped some mustard from her chin and asked, “Why did you want to drive all the way here? We could have used the PMTs.”

“More time to spend with you,” said Peter simply.

Peni grinned. “Awwww.” She sidled up and leaned against Peter’s side and he wrapped an arm around her. “That’s sweet.”

“If you tell the others I said that I’ll deny it.”

“Please. We all know you’re a big old softy.”

They finished off their sandwiches and water and got back in the car for the drive home. After the first hour of driving Peni passed out and didn’t wake until they arrived back at Peter’s apartment, where the man shook her arm to rouse her.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head. We’re home.”

Peni rubbed at her eyes and stretched her arms over her head. “That went quick,” she said.

“Yeah, because you were sleeping the whole time,” said Peter. “It drags by when you’re awake—and driving for that matter. Grab some strawberries.”

They trooped into the apartment complex and into Peter’s apartment. Peter flicked on the lights and entered the kitchen. He grabbed large freezer bags from his cupboard and stored the strawberries inside. He zipped them and stuck them in his freezer.

“Do yours,” he advised, handing some more bags to Peni. “We’ll freeze them until you bring them home.”

Peni nodded and emptied out her baskets into the freezer bags. When they were secure, she stared at the lone basket remaining. “What are those for?”

“We’re making strawberry crepes.”

Delight filled Peni’s features and she tackled Peter in a hug. “With whipped cream?”

Peter laughed. “With whipped cream.”

“Yay!”

They stood together at the sink and washed off the strawberries. Peni hulled them and Peter sliced them thickly. He put them into a silver pot and caught Peni snagged the bag of sugar. “I’ll do that, you little sugar monster,” he said, taking it from her. “You do the lemon juice.”

“How much?”

“Just a tablespoon.”

The sugar and lemon juice were added to the strawberries and Peter turned on the heat on the stove. Over the course of a half hour the strawberries melted into a thick sauce and Peter lowered the heat so the sauce could simmer.

He made the batter for crepes and created thin layers in a pan. “Pen, you want to get the whipped cream out?”

“Sure!”

“Don’t squirt any into your mouth.”

Peni let out a sigh. “Fine.”

She dug out a blue can and set it on the counter. Soon after the crepes were finished, folded into neat halves with strawberry sauce in between and on top. Peter added a hefty dollop of whipped cream to the two sets of crepes and they carried their sweet meals to the mattress.

Peni promptly took a forkful and stuffed it into her mouth. “These are amazing!” she said thickly.

Peter used his thumb to wipe a glob of whipped cream from her cheek. “You sound surprised.”

“I didn’t know you could cook,” she confessed.

“I can. I’m just very lazy.”

“You should do it more often.”

“You just want me to feed you.”

“Of course.”

Peter raised a brow when Peni snapped a picture. “You gathering evidence that I actually can cook?”

“Something like that,” replied Peni. She snuggled closer to Peter and happily took another bite. “I had the best day, Peter. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Peter tickled her chin. “What do you say to a night of terrible sitcoms and another round of crepes?”

“I say yes way!”

“Miles and Gwen have no idea what they’re missing.”

Peni gave an innocent smile. _Not yet, anyway._

…

**_Peni uploaded 1 Photo File_ **

**Peni:** You guys really missed out.

**Miles:** What the heck is that?

**Peni:** Peter made crepes with the strawberries we picked.

**Gwen:** Are you serious?! He didn’t tell us he was making crepes!

**Miles:** Since when can he cook?

**Peter B:** You just had to rub it in.

**Peni:** Sure did!

**Gwen:** Peter you didn’t tell us you were making crepes!

**Peter B:** You said you didn’t want to come.

**Gwen:** You know food is a solid motivator for teenagers.

**Miles:** That’s so rude.

**Noir:** That looks real good.

**Peni:** It was delicious.

**Porker:** I am offended.

**Porker:** There was food involved and you didn’t invite me.

**Miles:** I know. He’s the worst.

**Peter B:** Then I guess the extra strawberries I have stored will just be for Peni and I.

**Miles:** WAIT I TAKE IT BACK


	10. Beach Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spider-Kids go to the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Beach

**Miles: @Gwen @Peni** Do you want to hit the beach?

**Gwen:** Ah yeah, let’s do it. Beach day!

**Peni:** I’m in!

**Peter B:** What, we’re not invited?

**Miles:** You’ll cramp our style.

**Peter B:** I give you style.

**Miles:** I know you don’t believe that’s true.

**Gwen:** He’s delusional if he does.

**Noir:** You kids have fun. Don’t get into trouble.

**Miles:** And if we do, we won’t tell you about it.

**Noir:** Miles.

**Miles:** I’m just kidding.

**Peni:** What time do you want to meet?

**Miles:** In an hour?

**Gwen:** Good with me.

**Peni:** Ditto!

**Miles:** Awesome. I’ll send you the coordinates for the beach.

…

Flip-flops sinking into beige sand, Miles, Gwen and Peni searched for a decent spot to spread out their towels. There was a section relatively empty of people a few miles away from the boardwalk and they spread out their coloured towels and dropped their backpacks.

“Race you to the water!” said Miles with a grin.

He sprinted off and the girls were quick to pursue. Their heels kicked up small clouds of sand as they ran and Miles was the first to create a splash as he reached the water first. He raised his arms victoriously. “Ha!”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

She pushed his chest and he went sprawling backwards. The brief shock of cold caused him to yelp and flail before he managed to get into a sitting position, the water just covering his swim trunks. Peni giggled. “How’s the temperature?”

“Why don’t you find out?” Miles retorted.

He grabbed Peni by the waist and wrestled her into the water. She shrieked and spluttered, her short hair quickly plastering to her face. “Miles!”

Gwen laughed and waded further out. The water was calm and lapped at her body as she cut through the murky blue surface. She took a breath and dove under, goosebumps prickling along her flesh from the cold. She sprang back up and shoved her soaking hair to the side, blinking rapidly to clear her blurred vision.

“It’s not too bad.”

“It feels refreshing,” said Peni. “Though I prefer to get used to it on my own time.”

She stuck her tongue out at Miles. He smirked and went a bit deeper into the water before turning and floating on his back, eyes squinting against the harshness of the sun. For a while they lingered lazily in the water, enjoying being gently rocked back and forth.

“Wanna toss the beach ball around?” asked Gwen.

“Sure,” said Miles, righting himself and wiggling his toes against the sand.

Gwen retrieved her bright yellow inflatable ball from their spot. They volleyed the ball back and forth, each trying to get the most height. When they were finished with their game, they took turns balancing on the ball, trying to see who could last the longest. Peni won with a time stamp of ten minutes.

“That’s not fair,” grumbled Miles. “It’s because you’re the smallest.”

“No, it’s because I’m not clumsy,” retorted Peni.

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “Who’re you calling clumsy?”

“You did almost cut your foot open when we went camping,” said Peni innocently.

Gwen snorted. “That was so not my fault.”

“Try not to step on any rocks this time,” snickered Miles. “If we have to tell Noir you got another rock through your foot, he’ll never let you in open water again.”

“Trust me, I’m not looking to repeat that experience,” replied Gwen.

“I’m hungry,” said Peni, her form wrapped around the beach ball and her chin digging into the material. “Wanna get some lunch?”

Miles’ stomach, seemingly taking its cue, rumbled. “I think that’s a yes,” said Gwen.

They went back to shore and stuck their feet back into their shoes. They grabbed hot dogs loaded with all the trimmings and a large basket of fries from a food shack on the boardwalk. With the sun warming their bodies, they contentedly ate their food.

“Did you put on sunscreen?” Gwen directed at Miles and Peni. “If you get a nasty sunburn you’re gonna hear it from Noir.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” said Peni through a mouthful of fries. Ketchup stained the corner of her mouth.

“Considering Miles nearly forgot sunscreen for the camping trip, I figure I better not take chances,” said Gwen. “You got ketchup on your face, by the way.”

“It’s a fashion choice,” said Peni cheekily.

“I don’t need you to mother me,” said Miles huffily, finishing off the last of his hot dog.

“So I’m taking that as a no on the sunscreen.”

Miles shot out a hand and smacked her hand, causing her hot dog to smash into her face. She slowly lowered it, her nose and chin covered in condiments. Peni popped another handful of fries into her mouth, eyes wide as she waited for Gwen’s reaction.

“All right,” said Gwen calmly. She set her hot dog onto a napkin and reached into her beach bag. Miles watched her warily and his eyes clouded with confusion when she pulled out a bottle of sunscreen.

“What’s that—?”

Gwen squeezed the bottle hard and sunscreen gushed out, splattering over Miles. He shrieked and held up his hands, a fruitless effort to defend himself. Smirking, Gwen tossed the bottle back in her bag and wiped the ketchup and mustard off her face.

“Now it’s a yes on the sunscreen,” she said, picking up her hot dog and taking a vicious bite.

Miles scowled and started rubbing in the sunscreen as Gwen and Peni exchanged a high-five. When their lunch was finished, they sprawled out on their towels, full and content. They basked in the sun and when a shadow passed over Gwen, she lowered her sunglasses.

Two teens about her age stood over her, charming grins in place. The sandy-haired one said, “Hey, sweetheart. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Probably because it’s New York and there’s a million people,” said Gwen flatly.

“Fair point,” he said, undeterred. “My buddy and I are going to get some ice-cream. Wanna ditch the squirts and come with us?”

“Nope.” Gwen put the sunglasses back into place. “Now please move. You’re blocking the sun.”

The charm immediately vanished. He called Gwen a very rude, unflattering name. It rolled easily off her shoulders but Miles stood, eyes narrowed into slits. “Apologize.”

“Miles—” began Peni but he waved her down.

“Or else what?” sneered the sandy-haired sixteen-year-old.

“Or else I’ll kick your butt.”

“Yeah right,” scoffed his dark-haired companion. “We’ll stomp you into the dirt.”

Miles sprung forwards. The sand-haired teen readied a punch but he wasn’t near quick enough. Miles’ fist collided with his stomach and he buckled to the ground with a wheeze. His friend shot out an arm and Miles side-stepped it, seizing the wrist and flipping him over his body and to the sand.

“One more time,” said Miles frostily. “Apologize.”

“I hope you don’t,” said Peni cheerfully. “I’d love to see you get flipped again.”

The older teens made grumbled apologies with barely-masked fury and retreated, their prides and bodies bruised. Gwen’s posture relaxed and she smiled warmly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” said Miles stubbornly. “No one can talk to you like that.”

“That was great,” said Peni with a grin. “Did you see their faces?”

“Priceless,” agreed Gwen with a snicker. “That was a perfect front toss.”

Miles swelled with pride. “It was nothing.”

“Gotta have a beach brawl on a beach day,” said Peni.

“A definite must,” deadpanned Gwen.

“Do we tell the Spider-Dads about this?” wondered Miles.

They looked at each other for a second and said in unison, “Heck nah.”

…

**Peter B:** How did your beach day go, guys?

**Miles:** It was great!

**Gwen:** Got a decent tan.

**Peni:** The boardwalk had rainbow slushies!

**Miles:** My tongue is still dyed different colours.

**Noir:** Anything exciting happen?

**Miles:** Nope.

**Gwen:** Nah.

**Peni:** Nopity nope nope.

**Porker:** Oh yeah that’s not suspicious at all.


	11. Chilling Like Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spiders spend a summer day just relaxing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word prompt: Chilling

**Peter B:** I just spent the entire day chasing down the scum of New York in the sweltering heat. I need some down time. Who wants to come over?

**Peni:** Definitely! I need a break from wires and databases and coding.

**Miles:** I’m always down for down time.

**Gwen:** My summer reading list is kicking my butt, so yes, please, give me a reason to bail.

**Noir:** I got a meeting in an hour, but I can join you fellas afterwards.

**Porker:** What’s the plan, B?

**Peter B:** I’m going to flick through the television channels until I find a movie. I don’t care what is, I’m watching the first thing I find. Then I’m just gonna veg out and pretend I have no responsibilities.

**Miles:** No responsibilities. I wish.

**Porker:** If you’re immature enough, it feels like you don’t have responsibilities.

**Noir:** How’s that been working out for you?

**Porker:** Quite well, thank you.

**Gwen:** I love you, but I think that’s one piece of advice I’m gonna hardcore ignore.

**Porker:** Good girl.

…

On the television screen, a cheesy summer romance film was unfolding. Though Gwen wasn’t paying the movie any attention, she had full confidence she could guess the plot points and ending if pressed. Her eyes were closed as she sprawled against Miles’ side, taking lazy bites out of her slice of cold pepperoni pizza.

Ham sat in Peni’s lap, the girl sandwiched between Miles and Peter. Her head rested against Peter’s arm and she would lift it slightly whenever Ham raised his can of orange soda, which contained two plastic straws—pink for him and purple for her. Peter’s sweat from his day’s excursions had long since frozen on his skin, thanks to the air-conditioning.

There was a brief flash of light as Noir appeared. His greeting paused on his lips when his keen eyes zeroed in on Miles, who was snoring softly. His limp body was supported between the girls, his head lolling against Gwen and his arm thrown over Peni’s shoulders.

“Hey,” he said, making his tone very quiet.

“Hey,” said Peter at an equal volume.

Noir shrugged off his trench coat and it was only because of Peter’s previous insistence that he let it fall to the hardwood floor. There was space at the edge of the mattress next to Peter and Noir squeezed in, stretching out his legs. Peni leaned over to take Noir’s hand and give it an affectionate squeeze.

“How’d your meeting go?” she asked.

“Went fine, doll. Wasn’t anything special,” he replied. “Just a suit wantin’ me to investigate a possible hit from his partner.”

“ _Is_ there a possible hit?” asked Peter with intrigue.

“Always is,” said Noir dryly. “What are ya watchin’?”

“Guy meets girl. Guy falls in love. Girl has a boyfriend she doesn’t really love and it takes three-quarters of the movie before she realizes it,” replied Ham.

“This is the first movie ya found?” Noir asked in amusement.

“Yup,” said Peter. “You want a drink?”

“I’ll get it.”

Noir grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and a slice of leftover pizza from the box on the counter. There was silence in the room as they all relaxed, Miles soft snores permeating the air. He gave a particularly loud snort and rolled in his sleep. He left Gwen’s side and without the support started to fall backwards. Peter hastily shot out a hand and placed it firmly against the small of his back. Miles gave a sleepy murmur but did not wake up. Peter carefully lowered the boy until he was fully lying down, one arm thrown over his face.

“He’s knackered,” said Ham with a soft laugh.

“Summer homework,” replied Gwen, polishing off her pizza crust. “We’ve been tackling our assignment list over the past couple days.”

“Ya don’t seem tired,” observed Noir.

“Middleton does not give nearly the volume as Visions Academy,” said Gwen, shuddering at the mere thought of handling Miles’ workload. “Which is great because I’m not working nearly as hard as I should be.”

“Hmm,” said Noir in disapproval. “Peni?”

“Haven’t even started,” she confessed.

“Your gonna change that, right?” said Noir pointedly.

“Yes,” said Peni with a sigh. “I will.”

When Noir looked at the blonde, Gwen rolled her eyes. “I will try to put in more effort.”

“No talking about school,” mumbled Miles, startling them all. “Down time.”

“I thought you were sleeping,” said Peter in amusement, lightly batting Miles’ stomach.

“I am. Shush.”

He shifted, his legs aligning with Peni’s. His breathing fell back into the rhythm of slumber and Ham shook his head. “Talk about a superpower.”

“No, that’s just a teenage thing,” said Peter with a wistful sigh. “How I miss being able to fall asleep whenever I wanted.”

There was the sound of slurping as Peni and Ham finished their shared soda. Ham tried chucking the empty can into the bin but he missed and it clattered against the floor. He grunted and leaned against Peni’s chest. “I’ll get it later.”

“You better,” muttered Peter. “I don’t even want to clean up my own messes, let alone yours.”

They lounged against each other with their eyes trained lazily on the television screen. Gwen flicked her gaze around every so often, and it was on her third peek that she noticed the marker sticking out from behind Peni’s ear.

An idea struck her.

“Can I borrow that?” she whispered.

When Peni blinked at her in confusion, Gwen pointed. Peni raised her fingers and felt the writing utensil. “Oh. I completely forgot that was there. What do you need it for?”

“Nothing important,” said Gwen innocently.

Noir was not fooled. “You’re gonna wake him up.”

“No I won’t. He’s dead asleep now.” She looked at the slumbering Miles and said, in a moderate tone, “Wake up. We gotta go do our homework.”

Miles did not stir.

“See?”

“It’s your funeral,” said Peter with a low chuckle.

“Only if he can catch me,” said Gwen cheekily.

She uncapped the marker and leaned over, gently turning Miles so his face was uncovered. She started writing on his forehead, keeping her strokes feather-light. Ham snickered. “That’s not permanent is it?”

“Nope,” said Peni with a grin. “But we can make him think it is.”

“You’re a cruel gang,” said Noir with a shake of his head.

“You’re not stopping her, are you?” countered Peter.

When Gwen pulled back, capping the marker in satisfaction, it was to reveal the words ‘Hey, want me to touch your shoulder?’

Peni burst into laughter. Miles jolted awake. Gwen flung the marker to the side, where it rolled into the kitchen and out of sight.

“Wassgoin’on?” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

“There was a funny part in the movie,” said Noir casually.

Peni muffled her giggles into the back of Ham’s head. “Peni thought it was really hilarious,” said Ham with a straight face.

“Oh.” Miles glanced at the television. “What did I miss?”

“Not much,” said Peter, fighting back a smile as Gwen laughed silently into her arms. “Just a shoulder touch.”

Miles furrowed his brow. “Oooookay. I’m gonna grab some more pizza.”

He stood up and wandered into the kitchen, completely missing the marker that rolled to a stop behind the counter. When his back was turned his Spider-Family exchanged wide, secretive grins, and gave Gwen quiet high-fives.

…

**Miles:** I hate all of you.

**Gwen:** I can’t believe it took you that long to notice.

**Miles:** Was it you or Peter?

**Peter B:** I’d love to take the credit but it was Gwen.

**Peni:** Did your parents see it?

**Miles:** Yes they saw it! It was beyond embarrassing.

**Porker:** At least it wasn’t permanent.

**Miles:** No one bothered trying to stop her?

**Noir:** We didn’t have the energy for that, rookie.

**Peter B:** Those lazy summer days, you know.

**Miles:** Not lazy enough, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to be able to squeeze another prompt in by the end of August, so here's the final one. I didn't do quite as many as I was hoping for, but I wanted to reach at least ten, so I met my goal.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!


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